Momentum
by Wishful Vovin
Summary: This is about a girl who feels unloved so wishes herself away to the Lucian Kingdom, where un be knowns to her that the King wants a bride.


"I've missed you." Lana said, taking a sip of her wine.

"Really?" he replied "I've missed you too." He blew his nose on the napkin. The rest of her family, her mother and father, and her brother's new wife were out smoking. How she detested that habit of theirs. He had only come in to discard the empty bottle of beer and get a tissue or something of that kind.

"It's been too long, Luke." She said somberly.

"Yes." Lucas agreed and that was it. End of conversation. He left to join the smokers. Lana sighed and took a swig of the substance and felt it take hook, along with the other two glasses. She watched the four red dots float in the dark outside. She listened to muffled conversations and soft laughter. What a celebration this was. Her father's birthday, now he was a grand fifty-six years old. Many of her friends thought it odd to have a father so… 'old' was the word they used and it had cut her deeply.

Lana was protective of everyone in her family, but perhaps not as much as her father and brother. She had always had better relationships with males. Always went fishing with them and as soon as she was old enough, having a beer down at the pub. Every New Year they would see it in getting horribly drunk and celebrating in unethical manner. She loved time that she could spend with the two males who were so down to earth.

It was cold outside, and mosquitoes were having a field day feasting on the blood of her relatives. A practice she would hold out of, dishes were piled in the sink and memories of the huge dinner they had just eaten. She drained her glass and got up, grabbing the arm chair for a little support. Lana walked to the sink and started to clean and within twenty minutes the room in which a cyclone hit was sparkling fresh. Her morning was spent cooking and cleaning, preparing for the arrival of family. She made muffins, cakes and truffles. There were platters, dips and sauces. She prepared hot meals of pastas and salads. After that there were a few loads of washing. All through the day she was comforted and companied by David Bowie on the stereo.

_The television's on but I'm walking through the yard,_

_The house is fast asleep and I'm crying in my car. _

_Dying for the weekend._

_**- Fly**_

By the time they actually arrived Lana was a total wreck. The smallest memory of her childhood made her eyes fog and when they left, she went to her room and cried.

"I just want to be noticed, to be loved, to be appreciated. I… I wish the Lucian King would come and take me away…" she sobbed. Darkness claimed her and she fell asleep hugging her pillow.

"Such a sad case, but she said the words…" A musical voice said as he took her away magically, into the night.

The sunlight flittered in though the open window. Warm beads of daytime found her sleeping form and gently rocked her until she awoke. There was a soft knock at the door. She moaned and clasped her head, which felt like it was cracked open and her brain had split onto the floor, ruined by the dust and trampling feet. The gentle knocking continued.

"What do you want!" Lana bellowed. All she wanted was to be alone in her misery and insecurities. She tried to sink lower into her bed and cover herself with blankets. The door creaked open. "Mikayla, what have I told you about coming into Aunty Lana's room so early?"

"Miss, I'm not Mikayla. I've been sent by the King to fetch you. He says it's time you got up and stopped sleeping. It only makes one fade into illusion here." said a willowy voice. Lana sat bolt upright. She immediately noticed her surroundings were unfamiliar and she had no idea of where the hell she was. Grey stone walls, fire place with red wood mantle, one large window with double opening doors led out to a balcony. Sunlight cascaded in through that. In the corner there was a bureau, complete with mirror and small bottles of perfume's and colognes.

"Where am I!" she wheezed. All emotion was sucked out of her being and all her vision turned gray. The door creaked again and Lana heard a latch click. The voice came closer and Lana heard soft footfalls. "Where are you? _Who_ are you?"

"You're in a magical realm. Actually you're in Lucian kingdom. You must have wished yourself here, to the Lost Plains of Norrath. Poor soul can't see me. You not believer then, I take it. When you believe in magic and everything thereof, you'll be able to see us. In the mean time, you can only see the King and other mortals, beside myself that is." Willow voice told her.

"So that's it… I'm here forever? Oh, I just want to be alone! I'm dreaming; I can't even see what the Hell's speaking to me. Leave me in peace!" Lana wailed, pulling the plump blanket around her body.

"You won't be here forever, child. You will only be here until the King decides to let you free. If you want to see me, just _believe_. Norrath is not that bad, child." Willow voice said. "After all, I speak from experience. But if you wish to be left alone, then I shall do so here." The footsteps faded and then followed two rhythmic clicks. Lana was now alone wallowing in her misery. She dug herself deep into her blankets again and slowly drifted into a fitful sleep.

"What is she doing, Eeila?" the King asked in a smooth, serious but totally calm voice. A brunette woman walked into the room. Her auburn eyes locked with his. Pale blue dress swaying as she walked, she sat herself next to the King. For a servant, she was the highest in the chain. For a mortal, she was almost classed as Fae.

"She is in her abode moping, Sire." Eeila said in her willowy voice. She straightened her hair compulsively, because she knew the King would be at least slightly displeased with Lana's childish behavior.

"I expected as much, Eeila, so you can stop that obsessive hair fondling. Although she wished herself here, I expect it was out of desperation," the King said softly "I've seen her in my dreams. She is no ordinary mortal, she belongs here. A few days to adjust should be fine. Keep tending to her and if she wishes to explore Norrath or the Plains, send her to me. Can she see you?" Eeila shook her head slowly.

"No, my Lord, she cannot. I fear that her heart wants to, but her brain forces her to be stuck in her mortal reality. She seems to be the curious sort, so I expect you are right in thinking it will be a few days before she sees any of us." Eeila whispered in a hushed tone. "I should get back to my duties, my Liege." Eeila stood, curtsied and left the room, heading for the west wing. The King rose and walked to the balcony. There he observed his Kingdom. It had been a while since a mortal had been taken under the wing of Norrath village. The word of a mortal in the mists had spread quickly. The village was bustling with life and color. Some of the small children were clustered under Lana's balcony, pointing and laughing with delight. Breathing in the cool crisp morning air, he sauntered back to the throne.

"Show me Lana." He commanded, instantly a liquid like pool emerged in his cupped hands. In it appeared the woman he had helped. Buried deep within thick blankets she was crying and mumbling to herself. His heart melted and saw total innocence in her blood shot eyes. The bird-eye-view of Lana sunk down and it circled her, like an invisible camera, stalking her every move. She sniffed delicately.

"You can stop watching me now. Leave me alone." She whimpered and looked up, almost, but not directly into the vision of the spy. The Kings breath caught in his throat at her utter beauty, even if her make-up was smeared and her eyes were bloodshot. He was about to telepathically communicate with her when a mottle brown owl, which was perched on the balcony railing started to hoot and beat its wings. It flew away, spiraling down to the ground, where it transformed into a small child. Others quickly gathered around him, poking and prodding him until he told them what this human looked like. Of course, Lana did not know it was a boy, but just a regular barn owl. The King was so furious the liquid like pool dissolved and he morphed himself into one of his three heart beasts, a large elegant black eagle. His beady eyes gleamed in the fiery light and he took off, flying to the roof and out a window, placed especially for that purpose. Dodging the high turrets of his castle, he swooped down to where the children were gathered. He clawed the dirt in his lethal talons and morphed back into his Fae figure. The children shrank down and gasped, because the King looked deadly in his ensemble of black; black tights, black poet's shirt and high black riding boots.

"Enough! Who was the owl?" He growled. The children started to whimper; they were defiantly scared of the normally placid King. A small boy with sandy brown hair crept forward. Tears were running down his face and the others simply looked terrified.

"I-It was m-me, Your H-Highness." The child stuttered. He was shaking like a leaf in the deserts harsh wind. The King snarled in his anger.

"She is but a mortal in a strange land! Why would you pester her with useless antics? Why!" He roared. The child burst into monsoon like tears, wailing. All movement and sound in the town square ceased. All eyes were on the raging King and his victim. A podgy woman dressed in a dirty peasants outfit bustled over to him.

"My Lord, why art thou vexing at my boy?" She said it a deep Cockney voice. Her pointed ears tinged red in embarrassment. The King rose to full height and clenched his hands into fists. He bared his teeth in anger and bit off each word so they were clearly heard.

"He was… fraternizing… with my… mortal!" he cried. The boy ran into his mother's waist and clung there for dear life. What started out as a boyish trick turned into something that could get his backside tanned a few shades of red.

"My Lord, please spare thy boy and let him deal with thy husband." She said in her lovely accent. The King kicked the earth, still marred by talons lines. He transformed into the eagle once again and took flight.

"Very well!" he screeched and directed himself through the turrets into the light sky. Instead of going back to the castle as he planned, he took a sharp left and flew over his Kingdom's boundaries, flying over the Lost Plains of Norrath. The Lost Plain is a secluded part of the magical world, far from bustling towns and powerful courts. Although the King was apart of the Seelie court, he preferred to stay away from the political Fae. He was Robin Hood, an outcast to the higher class and yet a messiah in the eyes of his people. Curling one black wing, he dove down into a sharp turn and landed rather roughly on the ground, surrounded by golden waves of dried grass. The morning sun rebounded off his jet feathers and warmed his soul. He clawed the ground, feeling the earth slipping and sliding through the gray talons. Happy to be alive, he morphed from animal, to humanoid form. The hip high grass danced around him and glowing wood nymphs twirled around him, singing their enchanting song. His eyes grew heavy and he felt himself falling for the relaxing tune. Their heavenly voices were like ethereal ghosts. The King sunk down into the grass and folded his arms behind his head. He quietly listened to the song of the nymphs and closed his eyes.

Visions of Lana fell into his mind; the first time he saw her in the spy pool, when he saw her in her room crying, when she summoned him and all the other times he had been looking after her. In her sickness and in her health, he had always looked after her. There was some strange connection between the two of them, yet she had failed to see it. In her eighteen years in the Aboveground, she had shown great maturity and responsibility. She had just finished her schooling now. Educated and attractive, she was bound to be successful in the Aboveground, if she decided to return. Otherwise, she was destined to become a loved and devoted Queen to the Lucian Kingdom…

Lana glimpsed out of her blanket fortress. Tear stains streaked down her face and the break of day sun streamed in the window and cascaded down her auburn hair, giving it a magical look. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught her reflection. Twisting a face of disgust at her haggard appearance, she disentangled herself from her blankets and swung her legs over the side of the bed. One bare foot came in contact with a cold stone floor and a shiver ricocheted through her body, she pulled her feet back and hugged them close to her chest. Looking around desperately, she found no sign of slippers or shoes even. Lana bit her lip gently and decided to take the bull by the horns and quickly put her feet on the ground and got the instant freeze over with. Standing slowly, in a rather unasserted manner, she made her way across the room to the bureau. Lana sat like a constipated Indian god, purely so her feet made no contact with the stone. Squinting close into her mirror image, she poked at her cheeks and massaged her temples. In all, she looked like some kind of Frankenstein creation – gone wrong!

Grayish bags under eyes gave her the appearance of a defeated boxing champion and her hair, now out of the sun, looked dead and insalubrious. Her skin did not radiate its normal, healthy glow. Sighing loudly, she cradled her head in her hands, tipped with broken nails and chipped varnish. Lana still wore her dark purple top from the previous night and a simple pair of black pants. While that ensemble looked nice in the past darkness, the only things that it matched now were the creases and unplanned folds in the material. Now Lana was totally alone and depressed, she knew of no other person that had ever suffered this… this barbaric treatment. Actually… Lana looked up and surveyed her 'dwelling'

"Not too bad…" she said softly in a broken, husky voice. Slightly embarrassed, even in the absence of any other being, she subtly cleared her throat. Gazing over the room, she saw that she had spent the night in a large four poster bed, with thick cream colored blankets; of which she totally mussed up. Half of quilts were, in fact, on the floor. Glancing back to the mirror she looked in horror at her make-up. Eyeliner and mascara smudged and it looked like half of her pale foundation had found a grimy end on the pillow cases. Unfolding her legs from the uncomfortable yoga position, Lana decided to take a self-hosted tour of her abode. The stone was still uncomfortably cold, but she realized she would have to take it like the woman she was. Striding over the stone on tip toes she took to skiving round the walls. This was quite obviously no normal place, with the earlier talk of magic from the invisible voices. Her nails hooked into a crack in the stone wall. Wedging her fingers in the crack deeper, she found it to be a door. She tried pushing and it did not move an inch, so she to dig her nails in more than possible to wrench it out. With one last grunt and heave, it flung itself forward, as if it was pushed from the other side. What met Lana's eyes was enough to make her gasp in amazement. Just like a room of crystal stalagmites she observed. They sparkled and gleamed at her, inviting her into the room. Step by step she moved forward, in some kind of a trance. The room was cool, but when she stood onto ice-like floor, a warm tingle ran up into her foot and though her leg. Gaining more confidence, she strode into the room as if she owned it. Looking around, Lana saw what looked like an in ground pool which was totally empty. There was an arrangement of ten to fifteen silver taps, all shaped like a fish of some kind. She walked over to the pool and touched one of the fish's heads and from its mouth came a steady stream of hot water. The one to the left spouted cold and the one to the right spouted warm water, exactly the right temperature for a bath. She turned off the hot and cold, but left the warm fish-tap run. Disrobing, she eased herself into the bath, and let the warmth take over.


End file.
